


mind

by kinpika



Series: spectre [2]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: A few days out, An attempt at writing pomp and ceremony was made, Awkward first meeting, Pre-SR1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24120661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: One too many handshakes, every time.With the suddenly stern look turned on her, Shepard almost had it in her to admit that she had considered hot-wiring the Alliance’s new toy. Except the words don’t match and she. Should focus now.
Series: spectre [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738051
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	mind

**Author's Note:**

> i had been toying with this idea for a good week now...

Clearly, the time for too many handshakes had passed at least twelve handshakes ago. Shepard flexes her hand one more time, ready for the next one. The far too comfortable hand on her shoulder, as there is always a momentary flash and _smile!_ once more, just for the camera! Medals heavy on her chest, and one too many stars behind her eyelids.

Flex of fingers, never quite shaking the electricity fast enough. Only after, there’s always that look, that side eye, as someone pulls their hand away a little too quick. Even with all the posters around, showing that one moment they promise to never forget from Elysium, and still. Just can’t fight that measure of distrust.

She knows she should’ve given up fighting hours ago, of course. Should be proud and humbled, as there are Admirals and CEOs and every other measure of investor, saluting to the engineers and the potential. Sitting just outside the window, carefully parked so as to not scratch the paint just yet.

Shepard can’t deny her first instinct was whipping it out for a joyride. Itch that had her tapping fingers against her thighs in the elevator, dig nails into forearms. Watch the last end of polish and shine before everyone started streaming in. Good thing that between her and the Normandy was the combined forces of two species and a good dozen of reporters.

Although the potential headlines made her smile long enough for one more photo.

Tamper the edge of the grin, at the elbow that makes its way into her side. Subtle. Anderson clears his throat in a way that ends the conversation, complete with another round of handshakes and thanks and, “this way, Shepard.” Hand extended, only one way to go.

Salute. Carefully manoeuvred through the crowds that had grown since her last parade. Shepard can’t help the bite of, “haven’t they seen enough?” Kind of comment that drags at the corners of her mouth, turning it down into a scowl. Maybe a little too inappropriate for the people of the hour.

But there’s a grunt of agreement, and Anderson sidesteps another three reporters. “One more person to meet, before you have business to attend to.”

“I have business to attend to?” Shepard had checked her mail, twice, to make sure. Nothing had possibly been allowed to come up for the next three days.

Anderson stops her with a look. The kind that had the lightbulb above her head flick on. “Oh, right, sir. _That_ business. Very important.”

Dicking around in the spaceport for a few days was terrifically important. Could only think of exactly three things she could possibly get up to, barely worth the next six steps forward, before Anderson ushers her into a corner.

And they claimed that biotics could read minds. With the suddenly stern look turned on her, Shepard almost had it in her to admit that she had considered hot-wiring the Alliance’s new toy. Except the words don’t match and she. Should focus now.

“—very important that you’re polite.”

“Wait, who are you talking about?”

Anderson should consider a career in sleight of hand. Never had she seen the man so skilled at making people appear out of thin air than in the last few hours. But Shepard recognised the face, and fell into step, salute. “Doctor Ryder, it’s a pleasure.”

Ellen Ryder smiles in a way that Shepard would liken to what her mothers used to. Hard not to resist the smile back, as Anderson and Doctor Ryder exchanged pleasantries. Idle questions. How are the twins? Up to mischief, as always. Half expected them to be magicked out of nowhere, just to really top it off. Felt her mind wandering, before there was a very polite, “do you mind if I check your implant, Commander? It’s been some time since I saw you.”

Enough of a pause to allow her cheeks to burn, but Shepard relents. Easily, without much complain, as Doctor Ryder sweeps the few loose hairs away, fingers running over implant so lightly, it was almost as if she wasn’t there at all. “Yes, the L3s seem to be doing very well.”

“Ma’am, it’s almost been ten years since they were installed—”

“And I’ve had reports of feedback issues in the last few weeks, Elizabeth.” Polite smile, in the way that doctors all did. Closed eyes, but enough of a vague threat that Shepard didn’t push. Wasn’t quite sure where she would end up if she did. “I have seen the information your omni-tool had supplied. You can’t hide it from me.”

_Damn_. Shepard settled for a stiff response. “Ma’am.”

Maybe there had been a few missed appointments, but Shepard wasn’t going to admit to anything. Besides, she had emerged relatively unscathed from her last stint out on a colony before returning to Arcturus. Nothing too strenuous. No excessive use of biotics. Only when she didn’t feel like getting off the bed to pick up her water bottle. ‘Feedback issues’. Slanderous accusations. She would make sure to check her omni-tool for leaks, later.

Thinking about her last job did have her pause, however. Did she file her report? Slipping again. While a conversation carries on, something about on board calorie intake, Shepard was halfway through calculating when she had last eaten, spying another party drawing closer. A little too straight-laced, several medals of their own pinned to their chest. Stiff salutes at those they passed, on the perilous few more metres to where Anderson and Doctor Ryder finally turned.

“Commander Shepard, Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko.”

Shepard wasn’t sure if she was supposed to shake his hand, or salute. And it seemed that neither did he. Sure, she had heard the name, read the reports — Anderson had her sit through the files on those who would be on board the Normandy, over and over, until she could was likely capable of reciting everything from blood type to what they had eaten three weeks ago. But this was different.

Her first thought was that photos didn’t do the Lieutenant justice. Her second was punctuated by the very subtle cough, right shoulder. _Right_. Right hand extended, familiarity. Working on board the Normandy together, should invest in some _familiarity_. Anderson told her the best ship worked when everyone got along. Maybe there were other words thrown in there. Something something executive officer something something responsibility.

Shepard hated promotions.

And feedback. Very sharp and poignant, up her wrist. Centralising on the little bits of remade wrist, right there, bone and metal. Shepard didn’t mean to snap her hand back so quickly, but Lieutenant Alenko began apologising, caught halfway between reaching out to help and looking mildly horrified.

“Just a bit of feedback, Lieutenant, it’s fine.” Anderson did nothing but look mildly amused at the development, watching Shepard shake out her wrist. Working out all the little zaps of blue, until she could feel her fingertips again.

Nothing amused Anderson more, some days. Shepard falls into a quick salute, a half smile. “Everything’s fine… Those are some powerful biotics you’ve got there.”

Alenko turned a rather startling shade of rose, if Shepard felt fancy with her words. Almost crippling amount of embarrassment, as the good Doctor swoops in, with that motherly gaze turned up to eleven, discussing the L2s. Lieutenant being one of her success stories, one of the few. Shepard doesn’t pry, because. Well.

Doctor Ryder had gone through everything with her, before fitting her with the L3s. She’d seen the photos. Read the files. Had enough nightmares for a month that she was willing to protest implants and amps.

“Despite you nearly taking my arm off, Lieutenant, it’s a pleasure.” Smile cracks through, and the flush seemed to just creep higher on his cheeks, up his ears.

Another apology, one more salute. Anderson seemed far too smug about the entire development, and Shepard didn’t trust that look in his eye. Not when he ushers Doctor Ryder away, in towards the crowds, leaving Shepard and Alenko to follow along. Blessings to be counted, that at least it wasn’t her being shoved into the cameras, but with the direction they were going in, Shepard assumed her night was about to end.

“I’m sorry, again.”

Quiet aside. Going to put that right next to his other medals, that he was a little too polite. Shepard flexes her hand, shaking it out once more. “No harm done, Lieutenant. Shit happens.”

“I had been avoiding metal surfaces for the most part. Too much static build up, I guess.” He shrugs, hand going to rub the back of his neck. Implant. Familiar habit, when everything ran just a little too hot, and you end up shocking someone to hell and back.

Shepard taps the side of her wrist. “They rebuilt my wrist a few years back. It’s metal. Probably didn’t help, huh?”

There’s something in the way he looks at her then, that has Shepard feeling a little. Self-conscious? No, not entirely. But the steady way he looks from her wrist, back up to her face, it was. Different. Forces her to clear her throat, and look away.

“I’m also a biotic, but you probably knew that.” Two biotics who hadn’t had a chance to disperse excess energy build up, alongside low calorie intakes over extended periods of time, had the chance to — Shepard forgot the rest. Or she was mixing up facts. Up and down she would swear she read the handbook, and the Doctor’s notes, but the floor was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

“Oh, no, ma’am, can’t say did.” _Liar_. Everyone did.

Hell, half the evidence was splayed on the walls behind his head. Elysium, barrier. Candid shot by someone who should’ve been running for their life.

Shepard just settles for a polite ‘huh’. Lieutenant getting distracted by more than one other thing, in how he looks around the room. Too tight around the eyes, at the flashing of cameras. But maybe he saw the poster, maybe he got it. Maybe he didn’t care, as Anderson turned around to the both of them, then.

“Shepard, remember what I said.” Dismissed. Finally.

Three days to catch up on soaps before long range communicators messed with the picture. Saluting with perhaps too much enthusiasm, Shepard turns to Alenko then. Lieutenant. Would have to check with Anderson just how much familiarity was okay. “See you aboard soon, Lieutenant.”

Snaps back with a sharp salute that would make any commanding officer happy. “Pleasure to meet you, Commander. I look forward to serving under you.”

Pause.

Oh, she can’t fight the smile fast enough. Trying to fight the corners of her mouth, but the poor Lieutenant realises his mistake. Backtracks. “I—I mean… taking your orders. Ma’am. In any combat we may see.”

She had to wince, but pats his shoulder quickly. Left hand, this time. No feedback. “I know what you mean. See you in three days.”

“Ma’am.”

Never had she seen a man want the ground to swallow him whole so badly, he was covering his face as she walked away. One last look over her shoulder, and the Lieutenant’s cheeks were still red. Deep in conversation with Anderson, but that was beside the point.

In the elevator down to the lobby, she brings up her omni-tool. Classified reports of serving members of the Normandy. Finds the Lieutenant’s easily, and dodges out the way of someone entering while she exited easily. Eyes on the words, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. Been a while since she had served with another biotic. Been a while since she was looking forward to being on a ship for more than a month.

Flagging down a shuttle, Shepard does have to pause though. Look back up at the party. Anderson always had a knack for picking good ones, huh.


End file.
